for the lady who hates it

the typewriter is like another head
with a lucky brain
inside:
I hit the keys and things come
out.
the machine does all the
dirty work.

I phoned somebody the other
night
but he wasn’t
in, his girlfriend
answered.
I noted a certain unhappiness
in her voice
so
I asked her
if she was all
right.

“no,” she answered, “I just hate
being a writer!”

what she needs is another
typewriter, one that is like
another head
with a lucky brain
inside…

then

nothing is easier than
writing,
it becomes ridiculously
easy
and
as you continue to do
it
critical articles will be
written
on how you do
it
why you do
it
and
what it
means.

and,
of course, you
won’t know
what the hell
they are talking
about.

because
the typewriter
does it

all you
do
is sit down
in front of
it.

it will take care
of
damn near
everything
except
death and
bad
women.